A Rough Wake Up
by yur.makin'.me.sober
Summary: Retired from being a Turk and working a desk job, Reno is attacked in the middle of the night by an unknown assailant. The redhead might be rusty, but he can still get the job done. One shot. Action mixed with humor. Reno.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, but the writings and ideas are my own.

This little drabble takes place after Advent Children in an AU where Reno works a desk job at the WRO for Reeve and has been retired from being a Turk for a few years now.

* * *

**ROUGH WAKE UP**

Sound asleep in his bed for once, Reno woke up for some unknown reason. It probably had something to do with some mysterious sixth sense. Maybe it was a slight squeak of a floor board, or the sound of faint breathing, or the feeling of a looming presence, still no matter what the reason, the ex-Turks eyes suddenly few open, this muscles tense and ready for a fight. Which was a good thing because there was actually someone looming over the redhead, dressed all in black, their face covered with a mask, holding a cloth in their hand which was about to be placed over the assassin's face. The attacker was just as surprised as Reno when the bastard went to open his eyes, allowing for a short, awkward pause before either man moved to act. This hesitation gave the assassin the moment he needed for his brain to kick in to overdrive, the ex-Turk's survival instincts kicking into high gear.

The next series of actions happened so fast they seemed to be a blur. There was no time for the redhead to think, he was acting on pure adrenaline, trusting his body's reactions to get him out of the situation in one piece. Reaching up, Reno went to grab the arm of the intruder by the wrist, twisting the appendage into an arm bar as the ex-Turk went to sit up. With his free hand, Reno placed his palm against the locked elbow, using the weight of his entire body to break the bone. A loud snap echoed about the once silent bedroom before the assailant wailed in pain, the two men falling to the floor in a tangled mess.

A small wrestling match ensued as the redhead attempted to crawl his way back to the bed. He had a gun under his pillow. Reno wanted his gun. A gun would really help him at this point in time. That was all the ex-Turk was focused on… maybe a little too much actually. In his haste, the assassin forgot to keep his eyes on the masked man, leaving himself open and allowing the assailant to grab a knife with his still working arm, slashing at Reno's back as the idiot stretched across the bed, reaching desperately for the hidden weapon.

The assassin yelped and winced at the painful reminder. He wasn't that out of practice was he? The idiot chalked his mistake up to being awoken in the middle of the night and pulled from a deep sleep. The retired redhead refused to believe that he had lost his edge, which was just too big of a hit to his pride and ego, which was top priority at this particular moment, trumping the knife wielding maniac that had broken into his home. Forgoing the weapon at the moment, Reno flipped over onto his injured back, once again putting his assailant in front of him. It was a good thing to, for the attacker had the knife raised, already in the process of plunging the weapon downward towards the redheads shoulder. The assassin had just enough time to roll off of the bed and back onto the floor to avoid the attack.

Shit.

Once again Reno found himself in a compromising situation with his back exposed. That was already two strikes against the ex-Turk. He was so going on a strict training regimen once he got out of this alive. It was now a solid fact in the redhead's mind that this damn "White Collar Desk Job" life style bullshit was going to be the death of him. Literally… apparently…

With his cheek pressed flat against the carpet, a new perspective was given to the redhead. His dresser! Reno had a gun in the bottom drawer of his dresser, which just so happened to be directly in front of him. Fuck the weapon under his pillow, this one seemed much more accessible… at least at the moment. All the assassin had to do was propel himself across the room and open the drawer, which required time. Time which the bastard didn't currently have… at least not yet, but that was about to change. Pulling on knee to his chest, the redhead flipped over onto one hip, kicking back with his cocked leg, catching the masked man square in the chest, knocking the air out of the man and sending him backwards.

There was the opportunity the asshole was looking for.

Using all his strength, which was perhaps a little bit of overkill, Reno shot forward towards the dresser, over projecting his launch and slamming his shoulder into the piece of furniture, the impact knocking several random items to the floor.

Son of a bitch!

It took a moment to recover as the bastard went to protect his head from the falling objects, but apparently that was all his assailant needed. Throwing open the drawer and reaching inside for the hidden gun, the redhead apparently wasn't fast enough. Already back on his feet, the masked man wasted no time in closing the distance, kicking the drawer hard with is foot, making sure to keep constant pressure to hold the ex-Turk's hand in place. Reno let out another yelp of pain, this time growling as he sent a fiery glare at his nameless attacker. Twisting his hips about for extra force, the assassin swung one of his legs in a sweeping motion, connecting with the back of the intruder's knees, causing the man's stance to buckle. Losing his footing, the masked man crumbled forward, both his knees and his head slamming into the dresser. This was both good and bad for the bastard. Good because the force keeping his hand immobile was gone, but bad because the drawer was now jammed thanks to the body that had just landed on top of it. The opening was just large enough for the redhead to free his hand, but not the gun.

Just… god fucking damn it. He could not catch a fucking break today.

It didn't take long for another stroke of genius to hit the redhead, however. The couch. There was yet another gun hidden under the cushions of the couch. Not wasting any time Reno immediately got to his feet and bolted from the bedroom. Running down the hallway, the bastard knew his attacker wasn't far behind him. Loud quickened footsteps echoed behind his own and the ex-Turk felt the encompassing fear pressing upon him, much like that of any prey being chased down by a predator. The fear didn't matter, the assassin used that fuel to make himself move faster. His life depended on getting to that gun, he needed that gun. At least that is what he told himself in an attempt to keep focused. No matter how much the redhead didn't want to admit it, he had lost count of the number of strikes he was up to now. It didn't matter, the point was clear. He was rusty, damn it. Message received loud and clear. Not much he could do about it at the present moment. The bastard agreed to deal with that important and embarrassing fact later as it was clearly a problem that needed rectifying.

God damn it. Stay focused!

As Reno ran down the hall, tunnel vision started to set in, narrowing in on the couch. He needed to get to the couch. The ex-Turk was on auto pilot, jumping over every obstacle in his way to get to the desired piece of furniture. The shortest distance between two points was a straight line, so the redhead was attempting to keep his path of travel as straight as possible. It was working to; at least it seemed to be. The assassin was finally within reaching distance of the third hidden weapon and as the bastard knelt down to collect the damn thing, he was tackled from behind, the force propelling the two dumbasses straight towards the sliding glass door of the multi-story balcony, the glass door which Reno broke with is head. Shards of glass shattered and fell to the floor like a waterfall of ice, christening the duo as they rolled across the deck and into the railing. The redhead could already tell his face was scratched to shit from event and the gusts of wind blowing sparkling shards from his hair served to remind the asshole just how dangerously high up they were. Yes, the assassin should have expected his assailant to tackle him. Yes, it was pretty stupid of him just to stop and attempt to collect the gun. Yes, yes, yes. The idiot knew that. Another strike to add to his ever growing list. He got the damn point already! Thank you fate, but the he didn't need any more of a reminder than what it had already given him. There was no need to fucking rub it in. He was out of his game, Reno got it. Now the universe just needed to shut up about it.

The pair rolled around on the bed of broken glass, punching and kicking one another, their limbs flailing as the duo thrashed about. With each twist and roll, with each subtle movement, the shards dug deeper into any exposed flesh, which was not a good thing for the redhead as his upper half was nothing but bare skin. Reno's back was being torn to shreds, pieces of door fragments burying themselves into the wound that was already open and bleeding. It was painful, really fucking painful… not to mention messy, but the ex-Turk ignored all that, there were more pressing matters at hand. Like the masked son of a bitch that was trying to kill him for some unknown reason. It really was an unknown reason to. When the assassin had a moment he was going to have to put some thought into that. Just why exactly was someone trying to kill him? It wasn't a surprise really, there were lots of people who wanted that pleasure, but none that came to mind as recent.

God damn it fucker, fucking focus!

Right… masked assailant trying to kill him… he almost forgot.

Able to re-center his thoughts, the redhead remembered that he had broken the intruder's arm, which was supported by the fact that the man was guarding the appendage. If only the ex-Turk was still a Turk he would have picked up on the clues and remembered this earlier. Oh well. Yes, he was out of practice. Fucking move on with it already. Fate was really starting to beat a dead horse with this one. It didn't matter when the bastard remember this, the point was that at the next opportune moment, the asshole head butted the broken elbow, causing the masked man to scream in the sudden jolt of pain. Sitting straight up, the assailant wailed and clutched his broken arm to his chest, allowing the assassin to pull both his knees to his chest. As the bastard laid on his back, with a mighty thrust, Reno kicked upward, planting a solid hit on his attackers chest, the force sending him threw the balcony railing.

Rushing to his feet, the redhead ran to the newly formed hole in humble abode and looked over the edge. From floor 37 there was plenty of time for the supposed heartless and seemingly uncaring bastard to blow his new found friend a kiss and waggle his fingers playfully in a goodbye before the fucker hit the ground with a resounding splat. The assassin just smirked before he rolled his eyes, heading back into his apartment as if nothing had ever happened.

Blood was everywhere. Not that Reno was all that hurt, he was just covered in those annoying nicks and scraps that bleed like nobody's business and refused to stop no matter what you did. So the bastard just let the fuckers bleed. Honestly, what was the point in trying? This posed the bigger problem for the redhead. Just how was he to get to running water in order to clean his wounds without staining his carpet?

The redhead stood at the threshold of his used to be balcony door and paused for a good long moment, finally letting out a defeated sigh.

"… shit…" It was just his life, at least as of late.

The bastard decided that he just needed to sprint over to the kitchen. Move as fast as possible while making at little contact with anything as possible. Yeah… that was just going to have to work. Psyching himself up, even stretching a bit beforehand, Reno gave himself a small count of three before he leapt from the patio to this living room, vaulting over the kitchen counter to land with as much grace as a grapefruit on the tile floor, all while chanting "Don't drip on the carpet. Don't drip on the carpet. Don't drip on the carpet."

The ex-Turk made no move to call the police but with a man falling from a 37 story building, someone was bound to call the authorities. It didn't take much to piece together where the mysterious man fell from either seeing as Reno also made no attempt to hide or patch up the obvious hole in his balcony railing. As to be expected, the police were not welcome and the bastard made no attempt to open the door for them. The asshole told them as much while he sat on the kitchen counter, plucking shards of glass from his skin and placing the bloody chunks in the sink. The douche bag was even nice enough to inform the uniformed men that there was no point in trying to bust down his door for it was RAM proof. They tried of course… and failed, their only reward an "I told you so," that echoed from behind the locked door. The only way anyone was let into the apartment was when Reeve arrived, who just happened to have a spare key. A spare key which he had only for such emergencies… which sadly happened more often than not with Reno. When the Tyrant let himself in the assassin was still sitting on the kitchen counter, removing glass from his body, although now there was a nice pool of blood oozing from his perch, which was starting to drip on the title floor. Hey… as long as it wasn't the carpet.

Seeing the state of the ex-Turk, Reeve pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut tight in a vain attempt to ward off the impending migraine. "Dare I ask what happened?" The cat loving man knew this was a bad question to ask, but the conversation needed to get started somehow.

"I hired an interior decorator," the bloody bastard snapped back to his employer without missing a beat, plucking another bit of door and dropping it into the sink with a deep thud. "He said da place wasn't fung shui, I disagreed." The asshole shrugged nonchalantly, plopping another piece into the sink, more focused on his current task than the conversation with his boss. "Apparently he was right. Go figure. Although it's gunna be a bitch ta move da placement a da door."

Reeve let out a pained sigh. Only Reno. The CEO had to remind himself the redhead had his uses and there was a damn good reason he kept the asshole around.


End file.
